This is a dark age, a bloody age, an age of daemons and of sorcery. It is an age of battle and death, and of the world’s ending. Amidst all of the fire, flame and fury it is a time, too, of mighty heroes, of bold deeds and great courage.
At the heart of the Old World sprawls the Empire, the largest and most powerful of the human realms. Known for its engineers, sorcerers, traders and soldiers, it is a land of great mountains, mighty rivers, dark forests and vast cities. And from his throne in Altdorf reigns the Emperor Karl-Franz, sacred descendant of the founder of these lands. Sigmar, and wielder of his magical warhammer.
But these are far from civilised times. Across the length and breadth of the Old World, from the knightly palaces of Bretonnia to ice-bound Kislev in the far north, come rumblings of war. In the towering World’s EdgeMountains, the orc tribes are gathering for another assault. Bandits and renegades harry the wild southern lands of the Border Princes. There are rumours of rat-things, the skaven, emerging from the sewers and swamps across the land. And from the northern wildernesses there is the ever-present threat of Chaos, of daemons and beastmen corrupted by the foul powers of the Dark Cods. As the time of battle draws ever near, the Empire needs heroes like never before.
“Sylvania had proven to be a haunt of horror. The events at DrakenhofCastle left us filled us with sadness and fear. We had prevented the rising of a great terror but paid an awful price. And there was to be no respite from battle and dread. No sooner had we overcome our undead foe than we found ourselves thrown headlong into another even more desperate adventure, one that was to involve the titanic legacy of a long dead race and an encounter with the greatest living sorcerer of this age of the world, as well as battles with foes more horrible and deadly than almost anything we had faced before. During the course of these adventures I was to learn far more about the secret history of our world than I ever wanted to learn, and found my life and soul in the greatest of peril. Even now, looking back on these terrible events I am amazed that I survived. Many of my companions were not to prove so lucky…”
—From My Travels With Gotrek, Vol IV,
by Herr Felix Jaeger (Altdorf Press, 2505)
PROLOGUE
The earth shook. All around him people screamed. Huge buildings shuddered. The statues of the gods toppled from their alcoves in the shrines of ancient temples, shattering into a thousand pieces as the earth writhed like a dying serpent. He ran through the streets of the ancient city, seeing the looks of horror on the faces of his people. He passed decaying mansions where the desiccated ghosts of previous owners gibbered thinly in their fear. Ahead of him the mighty column of the Seafarer teetered and then collapsed. The Phoenix King flew from his high perch, his outstretched hand seeming to wave in terror as he tumbled earthward.
As he crested the high hills overlooking the mighty harbour, a glance at the peaks rimming the city told him the worst. The mountains blazed with light as wild magic ran out of control. He could sense its unbridled power even at this distance, and knew without having to cast any divinations that something was deeply, deeply amiss with the old spells that protected his land and his people.
Somehow, he was not sure how, he was atop the mighty wall that had guarded the harbour for a dozen ages. Looking out to sea, he saw the thing he had feared most of all. A towering wave, twice as high as the wall, driven by a force that would shatter the city, raced ever closer.
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